


Breaking and Entering

by Fierceawakening



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Spark Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:45:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starscream breaks into Megatron's quarters looking for trouble. And, of course, finds it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking and Entering

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was co-written with Meaisin Caoin.

Starscream slunk toward the door to Megatron's quarters. His wings fluttered in anticipation and he was nearly beside himself with smug excitement. The previous times he'd been here had always been with Megatron himself and, once inside, Starscream always found himself pinned to the berth (or the wall or the floor or the desk) in short order. While he'd never had the opportunity for much observation, must less mischief, in Megatron's quarters, his frequent visits had allowed him to study Megatron's elaborate security system in great detail. All ranking officers had to enter a key code to open their doors, Starscream included. Never one to be satisfied with the minimum, Megatron had gone several steps further and personally upgraded his security. His door would open only to three key codes entered in the proper order, and to the energy signature of Megatron himself. Starscream thought of all the times he'd squirmed with impatience as Megatron methodically entered his key codes.

Not this time, though. Many weeks of research and work and spying had paid off, and at last Starscream had unlocked the codes for himself. He couldn't keep a wicked grin off his faceplates has he lifted a trembling hand to the number pad beside the door. At last, he'd breached Megatron's final defense. Finally, he was rewarded with a gratifying beep and a blinking green light.

Now came the true test of his ingenuity. Starscream had spent what little free time he had working slavishly on a new device, a device specifically designed to scan security systems for the energy signatures required for entry, and then duplicate them. He'd originally started the project with the goal of circumventing the Ark's security, but there was no harm in testing it on recreational pursuits. Starscream pulled the newly-completed device from subspace, hands shaking so badly he nearly dropped it. He paused and cycled a long intake of air to steady himself. Finally he pressed the device to the square panel in the center of the door, where Starscream had seen Megatron press his hand countless times before. Interminable astroseconds passed. Nothing happened. Anxiety gnawed at Starscream's spark and he fidgeted, wringing his hands. Then, at last, another beep and another green light. Starscream pressed his fists to his mouth to keep from cheering aloud. He hopped back in forth with excitement as he subspaced his ingenious device, and Megatron's door slid open.

Absolutely giddy with pride, Starscream strutted inside. Megatron had no doubt thought himself exceptionally clever for programming his security so rigorously. Perhaps he was, compared to lesser mechs. But Megatron's gimmicks paled next Starscream's brilliance and resourcefulness. _And yet he continues to lead for some Primus-forsaken reason_ , the Seeker thought. His optics fixed on Megatron's desk first, neatly organizing and stacked with data pads. He found the sheer orderliness of it to be inexplicably irritating, mocking somehow, and fought an urge to knock the data pads to the floor. That would have to wait until after he'd perused them for useful information.

From the desk his optics swept over the berth. And on it lay Megatron himself, still and silent in recharge.

Again Starscream's hands flew to his mouth to stifle a cry of surprise. He reflexively backpedaled and nearly tripped over his own thrusters before regaining his composure. _Think_ , he berated himself, _Megatron is recharging. Unaware. Unguarded._ A slow, devious grin spread across his faceplates and his optics flashed with excitement. This was more than he ever could have hoped for. Megatron's armor was considerably thicker and heavier than most Cybertronians', but surely a null ray blast at point blank range would pierce it.

Starscream stalked to the berth, stepping with exaggerated slowness to prevent his heels from clacking on the floor. He hardly dared cycle an intake. Finally he peered down at Megatron. The tyrant's massive form was completely inert, optics dim and faceplates slack. His cannon arm lay peacefully at his side, while his other hand rested on his broad chest. Starscream stared.

 _Focus!_ he thought. He raised his arm and aimed his null ray squarely at the Decepticon insignia decorating Megatron's chest. He siphoned power to the weapon, freezing in dread as a low whine filled the air. He rather doubted that Megatron recharged very soundly, or for very long. But Megatron only parted his lips for a moment, then closed them again. Starscream moved his fully-powered null ray as close to Megatron's chest as he dared, locking the hydraulics in his arm to fight the tremors running through his frame. What if the shot didn't pierce Megatron's armor? A thousand doubts clouded his processor, each more morbid than the last. Megatron's insignia made a bright purple target, and all he had to do was aim and fire as he'd done countless times before. Edging his null ray closer, he focused on that insignia, the same one he himself bore on his wings, and that had been branded there by Megatron's own hand. His wings twitched and he suddenly realized his fingertips had brushed that pitted silver armor.

Megatron's optics flickered. A dark hand reached out, gripping Starscream's wrist and clenching hard.

"Hesitant, Starscream?" he rumbled, sitting up. "You of all mechs should know I've been expecting you."

His optics shone as they came fully online, and he stared fixedly at his Second's faceplates as his vision calibrated to the dark room. He'd kept his optics on, of course, sending flickers of power to them when he'd suspected the Seeker wasn't looking. From the wide, round shape of Starscream's widened optics and his open mouth, it appeared he'd guessed correctly.

He stared for a long moment at Starscream's hand, still pressed against the Decepticon insignia on his chest. It twitched faintly from the pain of Megatron's viselike grip around Starscream's wrist. Seeker plating was notoriously light and thin, since they needed to be light to fly. That, however, made it terribly easy for big mechs to dent. Megatron's cooling fans kicked on as he felt the metal give.

He made no move to hide it. Precious little would cover such a sound in this room, a room he carefully kept proofed against any outside noise. Besides, Starscream was touching his chest, right in the center, directly over his spark. Even if he hadn't heard the fans, surely he could feel the heat beneath his hand as Megatron's spark spun, restless beneath the larger Decepticon's chest plates.

For vorn after vorn, Starscream had been waiting for Megatron's moment of weakness. Or at least he'd claimed to be. Loudly and repeatedly. But would he really do what he said he would if his long-awaited moment actually arrived?

Megatron had decided to give it to him... or, rather, to pretend to. He'd leaked the codes to a few mechs who Starscream could easily tempt with bribes or favors or both. He'd left the codes fully encrypted, of course. A mech as clever as his Second would no doubt wonder if someone had decrypted them before he got a hold of them. Besides, Starscream enjoyed challenges - and Megatron himself liked knowing that Starscream could and did meet them.

And when Starscream did finally crack them, and find some way of mimicking his leader's energy signature, he'd have to find Megatron here, to all appearances recharging and helpless. Which meant offlining his optics and lying there, as still and silent as he dared, waiting until Starscream made his move to react. Starscream - a mech who made no secret of his ambitions, of how much he relished the thought of destroying Megatron and seizing control for himself.

Playing target for Starscream was dangerous. Megatron rumbled his approval, a low, faint sound that vibrated through his frame. Of course this game was dangerous. If it hadn't been dangerous, that would mean Starscream himself was no threat.

And if Starscream was no threat, he wasn't worth keeping.

Megatron had played this game because he wanted to know what Starscream really wanted. And now, his Second's hand still pressed tight against his overheated chest plates despite the deep dents his own hand was still leaving in the Seeker's forearm, he knew.

He chuckled. "And surely you don't expect me to let this breach of security go." With a small smirk, Megatron twisted the arm pressed to his chest, wrenching it backward, the cabling connecting Starscream's arm to his shoulder stretching taut as Megatron pulled.

Starscream squealed, more from surprise than pain, and instinctively tried to wrench his arm away. It was fruitless, of course; it would've been easier to free himself from stasis cuffs than from Megatron's grip. The hydraulics in his arm groaned in protest as Megatron twisted, and he bent forward, listing to one side in an attempt to relieve the structural stress. Metal screeched against metal as the plating of his wrist buckled under Megatron's hand.

"Let go of me! This instant!" Starscream shrieked. Megatron would no doubt reset the door's key codes after this, and Starscream would have to start all over. Seething with frustration over his spoiled efforts, he tilted his helm to glare furiously at Megatron.

"It's hardly my fault that your little security system is so ineffective!" he railed, the pain in his arm taking a backseat to the drama of his tirade, "I'm shocked, truly shocked, that I'm the first mech to have cracked it. Granted, my processing power greatly exceeds anyone else's in this army, including yours, but still. I was at least hoping for something... more sophisticated!"

He was squirming now, attempting to both worm his way out of Megatron's grip and ease the strain on his hydraulics. His free hand locked around Megatron's wrist, making an equally ineffective show of pulling at his Leader's much stronger hand. He spared another glance around the room. So much wasted opportunity! He cursed inwardly at himself for being too quick to approach Megatron. He hadn't even rifled through the data pads on his desk. Or stolen any of his energon. Or reset the security codes himself to effectively lock Megatron out of his own quarters. That last idea in particular was a brilliant one, he had to admit. But no; instead, Megatron himself had to be lying in wait, his mere presence a challenge and a temptation, even in the stillness of recharge.

And now Megatron was laughing at him, his entire posture radiating smug certainty. Megatron's arrogance always had been his weakness. And every time Starscream told himself that that weakness would be Megatron's undoing. He smirked as he felt a wave of heat radiating from Megatron's chest, warming his plating. He ceased his struggling and moved his hands over the solid, angular lines of Megatron's arm.

Megatron's optics narrowed as Starscream's delicate fingers moved along his forearm and up to his shoulder. His spark crackled with energy at the touch, and he cycled a small pant as he released the Seeker's arm and rose to his feet.

But whether it felt good or not, the touch was nothing like Starscream's fuming of a moment earlier. And to ignore such rude, insubordinate talk simply for the pleasure of a caress would be to allow it.

He smirked, stepping toward Starscream. "Let you go? Oh, I don't think so." Dark hands wrapped around the Seeker's shoulder vents and pushed down. Starscream hissed and spat, struggling to remain upright, but finally succumbed to the pain and pressure and dropped to his knees with a ringing clatter. Megatron's cooling fans roared in response.

"And - you call my security codes ineffective, Starscream? Tell me -" his hands moved to the Seeker's wings, wrapping around his ailerons - "if they were so easy to crack, why does your cracking them exactly coincide with my leaking them to someone you could bribe for them?"

Starscream's cooling fans had kicked on about the same time his knees crashed to the ground at Megatron's feet. He resolutely ignored the heat suffusing his frame as Megatron seized his wings in an unyielding hold. Starscream twisted to one side, then to the other, in a vain search for weaknesses in Megatron's grip. This earned him nothing more than a tighter hold; Megatron clamped down harder, teasing his sensors just to the cusp of pain. His wings fluttered against Megatron's grip even as his hands balled into defiant fists and he stared up, optics blazing.

"Don't lie to make yourself feel better, Megatron! I know that even you wouldn't be so foolish as to voluntarily give away your security codes. The fact that you take me for an utter fool is exactly the reason why your leadership is... precarious, at best! Not to mention short lived!" Starscream screeched. His spark surged in his chest as he felt Megatron's fingers flexing against his ailerons in a silent threat, pinning him to the floor in a constant reminder of his place. And of Megatron's, always above him. Starscream's intakes hitched and he panted softly as he resumed his futile escape attempts.

Megatron pushed down hard on Starscream's wings, his spark pulsing hard as the Seeker howled and thrashed, then quieted under his hands. Starscream hissed, his optics bright and his dental plates twisted into a scowl.

"Lie, Starscream?" Megatron's optics flared in turn, and he gave Starscream's ailerons a vicious twist. "Petty lies are your province. Not mine."

His silver jaw set, he pulled harder, yanking until one of the ailerons came off in his hand. "Lies are a tool. Like any tool, they are useful in some situations -"

Ignoring Starscream's cry of pain, he held it up, turning it in his hand and studying it, then dropped it, watching it fall. "- and not in others."

He raised his head, staring directly into the Seeker's bright optics. "I do not need to lie. Not here."

Starscream grit his teeth against the pain blazing through his wing, concentrated in the bent metal where his aileron once was and radiating through his entire frame like stark sunlight. It electrified his circuits and heightened his awareness and surged through his spark, which flared brightly in its housing. The dull clang of his own aileron crashing to the floor rang loud in his audios. That small and easily-repaired part of himself was still himself, torn asunder and discarded like a toy. He felt a thin trickle of energon dribble down the surface of his wing and fought the urge to slump forward against Megatron's legs. Instead his optics flared with indignation and he snarled up at Megatron. Though he never spoke of it with anyone, not even Megatron himself, Starscream relished his place as Megatron's prized possession, as it exalted him even further above his less-favored comrades.

"Well," he snipped, intakes cycling heavily, "Then I suppose it's flattering to know that you think so highly of me as to simply allow me entry to your quarters. I'll certainly keep this in mind. And perhaps you should too, if you're questioning my usefulness."

Megatron's optics widened. "Questioning your usefulness?" he asked, pushing the Seeker back down. His fingers reached down to brush against the spot on Starscream's wing where he'd torn the aileron free. His spark crackled as he traced the wound, his fingers growing moist with the energon trickling from it.

"If I were questioning your usefulness, Starscream, you never would have made it in here in the first place."

Starscream's retort fizzled out under the force of Megatron's deceptively gentle touches. Those powerful fingers skimmed over the wound on his wing with just enough force to remind of the pain and tease him with pleasure. He wantonly pushed his wing into Megatron's hand, greedy for more touch, more praise, more sensation. Everything. When Megatron moved his hand away, his whimper of protest was buried by Megatron's command.

Feeling Starscream shiver, he drew his fingers back again, smirking at the purple smear staining the dark fingertips. Panting softly as his spark gave a heavy lurch, he brought them to Starscream's mouth. "Open."

Starscream obediently parted his lips and, bracing a hand on Megatron's thigh, leaned forward to flick his tongue across black fingertips. He tasted the warmth of his own energon slicking Megatron's plating and couldn't hold back a soft moan. This was his fuel, his vitality, his very existence, and Megatron had spilled it and claimed it. Now he offered it back and Starscream eagerly accepted, lapping his own mortality from its rightful place in Megatron's hand.

Megatron narrowed his optics, murmuring with pleasure as Starscream's tongue traced his fingers. Times like these were the only times the Seeker moved slowly, deliberately, carefully, devoting himself to something more than his own whims.

And this was what he devoted himself to. To Megatron himself, and no one else.

"Is this what you wanted, Starscream?" the tyrant murmured, pulling his fingers free from the other's mouth and tracing them over Starscream's lips. He slid them down the Seeker's chin and toyed with the cabling of his neck.

Starscream was in no hurry to reply. He savored the pleasure of Megatron's hand wandering over his parted lips, petting under his chin, then stroking the delicate cabling in his neck. His head tilted back and he moaned, thinking of all the times Megatron's teeth had ruptured the fragile fuel lines there.

When Megatron slid his hands to the amber glass of Starscream's cockpit, it was warm to the touch. It glimmered, a sliver of light hidden beneath it, a thread of bright gold that danced as Starscream trembled with the effort to keep himself still. Megatron could hear the sound of the Seeker's cooling fans as his fingers ran along the glass.

"Mmm, yes..." Starscream breathed. Megatron pressed his palm to the warm amber glass of Starscream's cockpit, directly over his spark casing. Starscream's spark flared violently at the nearness of that touch, and it took every scrap of his limited self-control to keep his chest plating from flying apart in invitation.

"Is this why you came here?" he rasped, his vocalizer hitching as his hand clenched into a tight claw, dark fingers scraping against the amber glass. "Given a chance to attack me, to take advantage of my apparent vulnerability... this is what you do?"

He chuckled, his spark whirling in time with the laughter shaking his broad chest. "If you're not careful, Starscream, I might think that means you like to lose."

His tone was mild, his optics bright with mirth. Still, his playful words housed a damning insult. Decepticon society had no room for those who deigned to lose on purpose. A mech like that deserved any abuse he got for his failure of ambition - if not the scrapheap or the smelting pit.

And yet despite Starscream's endless failures, Megatron had never met anyone so ambitious. Perhaps he had, indeed, failed this test - but Megatron had expected that. Even if he had attacked, Megatron would have been ready anyway.

Which made this something more than mere failure. In a society ruled by the best, Starscream had no choice but to set himself endlessly against the highest of his kind. Those below Starscream could and did envy him as second only to Megatron. But for Starscream himself, his rank could only be an endless, constant reminder that he was almost strong enough, almost cruel enough, almost clever enough... but not quite.

Which meant there was no other way than this, this endless cycle of striving and losing and striving again, to confess his desire.

Much less to confess his devotion.

His optics flaring in concentration, Megatron clenched his hand even tighter, his dark fingers trembling with effort. Starscream whimpered as the pressure against his glass amplified into pain. The glass creaked loudly as Megatron's hand tightened, slow and crushing. He involuntarily lurched backward in futile attempt to pull away, but Megatron's grip held him fast. Then the glass shattered, shards of it scraping painfully into Megatron's hand.

Megatron drew his hand back and shook it. The shards rained to the floor between them in a shining cacophony, both praise of his tenacity and punishment for his failure. The line between the two was distinctly fuzzy for Starscream, and the contradiction excited him.

And there was yet another gleam from Starscream's shattered chest: a bright line of light where the chestplates beneath his cockpit had cracked just barely open. Megatron chuckled, the thick plating of his own chest clicking in response.

Starscream leaned forward to rest the front of his helm against Megatron's much cooler plating. The sound of his Leader's cooling fans filled his audios, and Starscream hadn't missed the hitches in his vocalizer or the impatient clicks of his chest plating. He smiled and brushed a kiss against Megatron's leg.

"Why else would I come here, except to do as I pleased? And what exactly makes you think I'm losing?" Starscream said. He smirked and moved his mouth along the seams in Megatron's armor, flicking his tongue between them to tease the wiring within.

Megatron twitched as Starscream's tongue slid over his plating, his cooling fans roaring again. His spark crackled, tendrils of energy lancing out from it only to run into his own chest plates barring their way. Its heat made his core temperature spike dangerously, and a burst of static flickered across his optics. His dark hands twitched as he struggled to regain control.

They wrapped around the thin metal of Starscream's cockpit, squeezing, crushing. The feel of the metal crumpling in his hands brought Megatron back to himself, his spark crackling in protest. He panted, letting its heat suffuse his systems again. There was no danger now. Not as long as he remained master of himself.

"Get on the berth," he rasped, slowly opening his hands. "Now. And get this mess of metal and glass out of my way."

Starscream made a soft sound of pleasure as his spark casing inched open further. It faded into a hiss of pain as he felt Megatron tearing deeper into his chest. His cockpit and spark casing were fragile and sensitive, and the feel of the thick metal there buckling under Megatron's merciless grip was exquisite agony. He bit down on the wiring he'd teased earlier, and his spark crackled violently under the intense stimulation. His cooling fans worked furiously at full speed, struggling to keep up with the heat pouring through his circuits.

Megatron's command sent another spike of heat through his frame, and he whimpered. Starscream wasn't made for obedience, and he looked down on those who groveled and followed orders without so much as a second thought. But Megatron was different. No other mech had ever forced Starscream to his knees and held him there, torn him open and claimed him utterly.

"Y - yes, Leader," he breathed. He climbed onto it and sprawling out on his back in offering. He slid his spark casing open, wincing as sharp glass fragments and warped metal scraped his plating. But that minor pain was drowned out by relief, as his hot, pulsing spark nearly burst from his chest. It flared hungrily and little tendrils burst out toward Megatron as it instinctively sought completion. Starscream arched his back wantonly and stared up at Megatron, lips parted and panting in anticipation.

Megatron stared greedily at the panting Seeker, his own chest plates flying apart with a loud thud. The light of his spark flooded the darkened room.

"Once again," he murmured, smirking down at the dark faceplates as his own light flickered across them, "your lust proves your undoing."

And yet it was only a defeat if one accepted that Starscream wanted what he said he did. Starscream had gotten exactly what he wanted if what he'd wanted was to lose. If he did, this was a confession, both of his own need and of Megatron's worth.

And that confession was worth rewarding. Gritting his dental plates against the pull of the other spark, so close now to his own, he leaned down to lick at the edges of Starscream's open spark casing.

 _Yes. Good_ , he thought silently as he slid onto the berth above the Seeker. His dark hands curled tight into fists and he pressed them into Starscream's wings as his tongue slid along the maimed metal. The Seeker trembled violently under him, and lightning crackled from Starscream's eager spark, grounding itself in anything it could find. Megatron's faceplates burned, seared by it as it buried itself in one of his cheeks.

Starscream's hands flew to Megatron's shoulders, one of them clawing at the gun barrel on his back. Megatron's tongue was so light and soft, a stark contrast to his earlier brutal touches, and an exquisite tease against the damaged and over-sensitized metal of his spark casing. He arched his back against Megatron's faceplates as his spark flared even hotter and greedier.

Megatron grimaced as Starscream's spark swelled, its heat too close now, too insistent. It would consume him if he kept doing this, melt him down in its desperation to reach him.

And then there was his own spark to think of, roiling in his chest like a maelstrom of fire.

"Mine," he rasped, drawing his head away and drawing the energy tight into his whirling spark. It crackled and roared, not wanting to be denied, and Megatron fed it, all the energy built up in his circuitry hastening down into his chest, eager to claim what lay before it.

Starscream whimpered in protest when Megatron pulled away. He felt like he was burning up, like he'd be immolated in the energy of his own spark. He panted hard against the sound of his overworked cooling fans and little crackles of electricity snaked over his plating. Megatron loomed over him, his silver frame blazing with the combined light of their sparks. Heedless of the blinding brightness, Starscream hungrily admired the regal angles of Megatron's faceplates.

"Megatron!" he whined, arching his back again and reaching for his Leader, "Don't stop! I - I need more..."

Megatron barely heard the words over the seething of the spark below him. His own roiled in his chest, overfull, its heat scorching the metal of its housing. He felt the emotion, however, Starscream's spark energy curling toward him, its gravity drawing him in.

"Very well," he hissed into the blinding void. "But on my terms. Not on yours."

He pulled back, tearing himself free from the pull of the spark beneath him, his own spark heavy in his chest. His back arched as he snarled and the energy burst forth from him in a torrent of heat and light.

Beneath him, Starscream writhed again, the bright light in the Seeker's chest parting to receive him. He roared, the energy flooding through every part of the spark beneath him, burning away every lie, every secret defiance. Starscream gave an answering scream, raw and rough and static-filled, the sound wrenched from his vocalizer as Megatron's energy speared him, pinning him to the berth. His body opened to Megatron. All his layers of petulance and pettiness unfurled under Megatron's hands, blossoming into vulnerability and submission.

 _Mine,_ Megatron thought again, feeling Starscream's frame jerk. He ground his hands hard into the thin wings below them, forcing the Seeker to stillness again. Starscream's wings lit up with fresh pain as Megatron pressed too hard. He moaned and struggled weakly, involuntarily, as his programming instinctively rebelled against being trapped by the appendages intended for freedom. His hands flew to the blocky contours of Megatron's arms. Perhaps some part of him had intended an escape attempt, but the steady burn of pain only made his spark flare hotter. Instead of fighting, he clung.

 _Yours._ He responded without thought, without knowing, the desperate arch of his back, the trembling of his wings, the searing heat of his spark speaking the answer for him. He offlined his optics as he surrendered to the sensation of Megatron's energy surging through his frame.

Megatron felt Starscream's answer as clearly as he heard it, the emotion prickling through the bond, a sudden, new heat. In answer, his fists pressed deep into Starscream's wings. He trembled once, violently, and hurled another burst of energy into the Seeker below him.

It burned as it left him, a seething whirl of heat and light. His oversensitive circuits sang, electrified, with something between pain and pleasure. And he felt the chamber below him, endlessly open, the spark beneath him pulsing, impossibly full.

The whiteness of their combined energy hurt his optics. They flickered, and he snarled, something between passion and rage, willing them to reset. His hands opened and his fingertips dug deep into the Seeker's wings as he forced his optics to focus on the dark head of the Seeker below him.

Starscream's wings began to buckle as Megatron ground his hands even harder against them. The strained creaking of metal rang in his audios. The pain flowing through his systems intensified and brightened. It grounded him even as it consumed him and marked him. When Megatron had finished, his wings would be warped to the shape of his hands like a twisted work of art.

Megatron was relentless. Starscream writhed as wave after wave of energy flooded his spark, filling it until it was nothing more than an extension of Megatron's will and desire. The hands on his wings twisted and re-opened the hastily self-repaired fuel lines that had split when Megatron tore his aileron off. Fresh energon left a warm, slick trail over his plating, over Megatron's fingers. The pain in his wings transcended into white, obliterating agony. He was reduced to a vessel for Megatron's vicious energy and power and cruelty. He barely heard his own ecstatic screams as Megatron forced him to ultimate surrender, overload tearing through his circuits like an explosion.

Megatron's last sight before the white light engulfed him was Starscream's head thrown back, his mouth opened wide, dark against the whirlpool of light. The Seeker's cries reverberated through his audios, a wailing counterpoint to the crackle of the energy engulfing them. Megatron opened his own mouth in answer.

He could not hear the sound he made, though he felt his chassis vibrate with it. All he heard, all he knew, was the shock tearing through his systems. Starscream's passion fueled it, impossibly intense, and he wondered for a brief moment what it must be like to be Starscream, to feel such need every moment, driving him on and on and on.

Snarling, he gripped the wings under his hands, feeling the energon slicking them as his vision faded entirely to white. Twitching violently as their combined energy consumed him, he forced his frame down, grinding his chest against the other's as the overload blazed through him.

Starscream clung tighter as he felt Megatron's feverishly hot plating crushing against his. Megatron's weight bore down on him and trapped him against the berth. Starscream squirmed, relishing the rough scrape of metal against metal and the hot sting of his damaged spark casing as the close contact further abraded the warped plating there. The roar of Megatron's overload echoed in his audios, though a raspy whimper was all the response he could muster. His frame was slack, still vibrating with both the aftermath of his own overload and an echo of Megatron's reverberating through his spark. He weakly tilted his head to run his mouth along the thick cables in Megatron's neck before flicking his tongue out to taste, then suck.

"Mmm, Leader," he breathed, "Aren't you pleased that you have such a clever second?"

He nipped at the cables under his tongue and wrapped his arms around Megatron's broad torso.

Megatron rumbled an answer, tilting his head in response to the tongue moving along his neck. His optics flickered as they came back online, and his faceplates settled into a smirk. "Clever? You are. But as I said, I was expecting you."

A dark hand ran along the wound where Starscream's aileron had been. "For all your fits of temper, you're entirely predictable, Starscream. No matter what temptation I set before you, you find it impossible to resist."

Starscream hissed as Megatron petted his damaged wing. The damage was superficial and reattaching a severed aileron was a simple procedure. All the same, though, the thin plating and tightly-clustered sensors there made the wound sting terribly. Even Megatron's light touch made his wing twitch.

"And why would I ever want to resist?" Starscream said, smirking against Megatron's neck. He wiggled against Megatron's body, savoring the tantalizing closeness of the power contained in his spark, and bit harder at his neck cables.

Megatron hissed as Starscream bit hard enough to pierce the cabling. The pain flared through him, his spark whirling in answer.

He arched his back, pulling his chest up and away from the other's. As entertaining as this was, he would need recharge eventually. So would Starscream, whatever protests to the contrary the Seeker might dream up.

His spark lanced tendrils down toward Starscream, trying to close the distance between them. He panted, staring. "Why indeed?" he murmured, half to himself.

He'd given his Second a chance to attack him. He'd even offlined his optics and forced himself to be still, giving Starscream a clear advantage as well. And Starscream, given this extraordinary chance to prove himself traitor once and for all, had not even tried to use it.

The thought raced through his mind like the energy crackling from his spark. Starscream was calm now, as calm as he ever would be, and even someone as energetic as the Seeker needed rest.

And his actions tonight had been a test. A test in which, in the end, he'd chosen loyalty over treachery.

Surely Megatron could, with a few clever failsafes, keep him here for the night.

He shook his head, gritting his dental plates, willing the thought away. The mechs he led were merciless, every one. He himself had chosen them for it. He had encouraged it, honed it, set them against both their enemies and one another with the goal of tempering it.

And leading mechs like that came with a price. A price he had paid willingly from the beginning, and a price he would pay again now.

His hand moved from the Seeker's damaged wing to his faceplate. His fingers ran almost gently over the dark metal. No, he realized, feeling the warm plating under his hand, he did not need more than this. He did not need hours of reassurance. He knew what these moments meant. And they were all the more intense for their rarity.

"That's enough, Starscream," he finally said, tracing his fingertips over the Seeker's lips one last time before standing back up again. His chest plates slid closed with a resounding thud, darkening the room. "Go. Or did you think I planned to keep you in here forever?"

Starscream took his sweet time rising from the berth. He stretched languidly, fanning his wings slowly back and forth. Finally he bent to retrieve his discarded aileron and twirled it idly between his fingers.

"Oh, there's never enough," Starscream said, a sly grin spreading across his faceplates. He couldn't stay; he'd never allow himself that level of contentment with his place, not when there was yet another place still higher to strive for.

"And you might to at least attempt some effective security in the future," he called over his shoulder as he left Megatron's quarters, flicking his wings in longing and defiance.


End file.
